


In Which Haytham Kenway Is Defeated By A Toddler

by jonphaedrus



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, assassin's creed exchange 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/pseuds/jonphaedrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m going out,” Ziio says, brushing past Haytham, her hair knotted into some complex kind of bun, dark skin heightened with what he’s almost certain is golden eyeshadow. “With some friends.”</p><p>“Okay?” he replies, standing there awkwardly in their tiny apartment kitchen that barely has enough room for him, let alone anybody else, and starts to juggle the frying pan full of egg he has as Ziio leans in and hands him Connor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Haytham Kenway Is Defeated By A Toddler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domjiji (HeviMetal)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeviMetal/gifts).



> this is a gift for domjiji for the hellsing exchange in winter 2014 \o/

“I’m going out,” Ziio says, brushing past Haytham, her hair knotted into some complex kind of bun, dark skin heightened with what he’s almost certain is golden eyeshadow. “With some friends.”

“Okay?” he replies, standing there awkwardly in their tiny apartment kitchen that barely has enough room for him, let alone anybody else, and starts to juggle the frying pan full of egg he has as Ziio leans in and hands him Connor.

“Put him to bed early, and I’ll be home by midnight.” Ziio musses Connor’s hair, kisses Haytham on the cheek, and before Haytham can say or ask anything else, she slams out the door and he’s left there in dead silence, holding a toddler and a frying egg.

Haytham stares at the door, slammed behind her, and down at Connor, who is already chewing on the end of Haytham’s ponytail (as always) and stares back up at him with big dark eyes.

“Well,” Haytham says, finally, as Connor keeps chewing on his hair, “I guess it’s you and me, then.” Connor gurgles. It’s not like Haytham is incapable with children—in fact, he’s remarkably good with Connor, at least according to some female friends of his and Ziio’s. It’s that he wasn’t expecting to have him tonight. Bouncing their toddler up further on his hip, Haytham finishes cooking his egg, Connor watching attentively the whole time, and then they eat in the kitchen, Connor eating maybe more of the egg than Haytham himself, before they walk out into the rest of the apartment, Haytham holding Connor’s hands above his head and letting him kick and squeal as he flies up off of the ground, letting his father support all his weight.

They eventually end up in the living room, laying next to each other on the floor, Connor grabbing his legs and rocking back and forth, bumping against Haytham’s arm. “What do you want to do without your mom?” He asks, turning to look at his son, who stares back at him with wide eyes.

“Wanna wacha moie,” Connor replies, still kicking his feet, and Haytham sighs. If Ziio comes home and finds out that they just watched a movie, he’ll be in so much trouble. They should do something else.

“Not a movie. Movies rot your brain.” Connor stares back at him with totally guileless brown eyes, and Haytham knows that his toddler is judging him. Because they’re apparently really good at that—toddlers, he means.

Which is how Haytham ends up making the executive decision that they’re going to play Candyland, which is remarkably difficult to do with a two year old, until Connor finally gives up and just wants a candycane, and he gives up in return, because young children and sugar, and well, you know how this record ends, and Ziio comes back at midnight to find her husband mindlessly watching reruns of late-night DVD Sesame Street with Connor passed out and tucked in his arm, drooling candycane coloured saliva, and she stands there, one hand propped on her hip, eyebrows raised, until Haytham notices her and half-startles, only to freeze himself before he wakes up Connor.

“Did you really give in and let him watch a movie?” Her voice is quiet, and Haytham finally just shrugs helplessly. 

“It seemed easiest.” Her laugh in response is quiet and clear and warms him from the inside out, and he somehow can’t stop smiling.


End file.
